


Unnamed

by corullance



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A/B/O, ANGST IS COMING, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Dubious Consent, First Time, I am officially star wars trash :'(, Kink Meme, Knotting, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Harm, bottom!kylo ren, maybe? - Freeform, mild panic attack, omega!kylo, spoilers probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corullance/pseuds/corullance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the kink meme: He's tried so hard to be the dominant Alpha that everyone expects, but biology is what it is. What happens when he goes into heat while trying to get information from Poe? Just fuck me up anons</p><p>Kylo Ren has been on suppressants for years. They fail at an unsurprisingly extremely unlucky moment. The chivalrous imprisoned pilot takes it upon himself to help Kylo through things, all through the goodness of his own heart, of course, no ulterior motives here at all. Things progress from there. (spoilers, probably)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which The Heat Begins

**Author's Note:**

> It's official. I am star wars trash :'( I wasn't gonna post anything until I finished my other WIP...no promises on this one. I've got some ideas for more, but I may just end it whenever. :3 Cheers! Enjoy this ridiculous garbage.

He feels unusually hot.

That is the first sign, although he does not know it for what it is in the moment he notices.

He has his duties to perform, a slight flush is not going to keep him from that. The foolish pilot they had captured has information on the map. The map. It is so close he practically vibrates with energy.

He strides down the hallways towards the interrogation chambers.

“Lord Ren, a moment.” a voice calls. General Hux. He grits his teeth but is obliged to respond. He stops and turns and waits for Hux to come to him.

“What is your progress?”

“The pilot knows the location of the map.” Kylo replies. “I will retrieve it presently.”

“Good. With luck it is still secreted within the village. It is unlikely any survivors had time to get to the map and flee.” Hux says, sounding pleased, a rare tone for him.

Hux gives Kylo a glance over and inhales. There is a slight indentation between his brows, puzzlement. He inhales again, perhaps drifting slightly closer. 

This is the second sign.

It seems imperceptible though, and later Kylo will curse himself for noticing and dismissing the action.

Hux continues to frown and Kylo breaks the moment, “If you are finished.” It is sharp, not a question at all, but Hux does not show any perturbation at being addressed in such a tone. He seems preoccupied with whatever he is trying to figure out.

“Yes, Lord Ren, that is all.” His gaze follows Kylo as he turns and nostrils flare.

Kylo shakes off his suspicious curiosity at the behavior and turns to the task ahead, resuming his route to the interrogation room.

He stumbles.

That is the third sign.

It gives him pause. He feels...hot still and unbalanced, but there is no explanation he can think of. He is restless, but that is not so uncommon.

It is unsettling, but he has his duty. Discomfort cannot stop him. He is strong.

He enters the interrogation room and nearly chokes on the heady scent of alpha, even through his helmet. The small room is saturated thanks to the struggles of the pilot. It doesn’t smell like fear though, it smells good.

That is the fourth sign, and by then it is already too late.

He catches himself trying to think of what the smell reminds him of and has to shake his head to clear his mind. This distraction is becoming dangerous he thinks, but there is little clarity to the thought, it seems to echo far away in his mind.

He remembers his mission though. He cannot fail in his duty. The consequences…

He cannot fail.

He clamps down on his control and focuses on the pilot.

He is looking at Kylo as well, just slightly confused, trying to figure something out. It is a strangely familiar expression, though he does not recognize the pilot.

They stare for a while, Kylo cannot concentrate. It is too hot to concentrate. He just has to get the map and then he can find something to quench this heat inside him.

The pilot clears his throat and it brings Kylo out of his daze. It dawns on him that the expression, the confused one; it is the same one that Hux was wearing just earlier.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kylo says, before he can catch himself. Everything seems to be moving very slowly.

It is not an appropriate way to start an interrogation.

“Like what?” the pilot shrugs with a bravado he may or may not feel. He is flippant and difficult. Kylo knows he will be difficult to break. He is strong and brave, loyal to his cause. Desirable traits, but it is the wrong cause.

“Like I am a puzzle you are trying to solve.” Kylo replies, thinking that the pilot’s hair looks soft. That he has the face of someone who laughs often.

“Well, isn’t it a bit odd, even for the First Order?” the pilot raises one brow. “Especially for a Knight, you’d think, right? Not that I have any problem with it! Just unexpected. Still, kind of a strange interrogation technique. Bit of a reverse.”

Kylo shakes his head.

“What are you talking about?” he mumbles. The sentence is difficult to form. His thoughts are slow and disorganized. He feels so hot.

Part of him realizes that something is very wrong. Has he been poisoned? He can’t...it’s too hot. He’s suffocating. The pilot is saying something, but Kylo can’t breath. He stumbles back, clawing at his helmet until he can get it off.

His back hits the wall and he slides down, shaking, breathing hard and without the filter of his mask the scent of alpha is so much stronger, so much better.

A shard of focus emerges and he turns his gaze to the alpha, who is still trying to speak to him.

“Hey! hey!” the alpha has raised his voice, “What kind of interrogation is this? Hey, look at me!”

Kylo holds his eyes for a beat. He doesn’t think he can get up. He feels weak, but still restless, and so hot. When could he have been poisoned?

“What is happening to me?” He pants to himself, leaning his head against the wall, unwittingly exposing his throat to the alpha.

“Oh, come on! Don’t try to pretend this is just a coincidence!” the alpha is yelling now, agitated, and Kylo is equally disturbed. “You think I’ll get so worked up by an omega in heat that I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to hear just for a taste?”

Kylo panics.

He chokes at the word “omega” and stops breathing at the word “heat”. He hardly hears the rest of the alpha’s rant.

“No. No this can’t be…” Kylo feels some desperate strength returning to him and he struggles to his feet, but ends up leaning against the wall. He has been taking suppressants. It’s impossible only Snoke...not even General Hux…

He nearly flees, but where can he go. No one can know. No one can know about his weakness. He can’t walk through the halls like this. He has to regain control here.

“Hey! Hey!” The alpha’s yells startle him out of his thoughts. “Did they just throw you in here as bait without telling you?”

Kylo shakes his head again. “I can’t be…” He tries to take a deep breath, but all he gets is the pleasant rush of alpha pheromones and the unpleasant urge to please. His knees go and he finds himself against the cool floor. He presses his burning face against it with a groan.

“Hey! He needs help! Is anyone out there?” the alpha is...trying to get help. Trying to protect him? 

“Why are you trying to help me?” He mumbles into the floor.

“I dunno, alpha instinct!” The pilot replies shortly, still frantically trying to determine if anyone is coming to help.

He knows there is an instinct, but he has never...no alpha has ever cared for him. “You have a kind face.” Kylo replies, the quality of his voice nearly drunk.

The alpha isn’t paying attention to him anymore, and that feels bad, makes him anxious. Kylo follows his gaze to the door.

“No one is coming.” he replies. “They fear me. They will not interrupt unless I am being summoned.”

The pilot stares at him. “Can you get up?”

Kylo rolls his head, “You smell so good. Please.” He begs but he doesn’t understand what for. He just knows that he needs the alpha to do something.

There is silence for long moments while he pants on the floor trying not to come undone, trying to figure out what exactly it is he needs. He doesn’t even think about what he had originally come to do. There is a burning in him more urgent than anything he has ever felt.

“Please.” He moans again, curling into himself. He glances at the alpha, who looks at him calculating, not really seeing him, weighing his worth. It is not a comforting expression.

“Let me free and I’ll take care of you.” the alpha says. “I’ll help you.” His voice is deepened and rough now.

Kylo shies away from that order. He knows that he can’t. He can’t let this man free. He’s not supposed to...but he needs so badly, and this alpha is so...he’ll take care of Kylo.

“You can trust me.” The alpha coos, “I won’t try to run. You won’t get in trouble. I’ll just help you. I can make you feel so good. Let me help you. Trust me.”

Yes, this alpha will take care of him. He’ll help Kylo. Kylo can trust him. He needs this alpha and with that thought, the promise of relief, he is reenergized.

He doesn’t even know where the key is, but he never has, has never needed them. He reaches out and forces the restraints open, breaking one set off the chair entirely.

The alpha gasps, but leaps off the chair a moment later. He takes two strides to the door, to listen or examine it. Prudent, some far off part of Kylo thinks, but the rest of him quivers in fear that the alpha will abandon him. He knows he cannot leave this room in this state, although he can’t quite remember the reasoning.

But the alpha turns back after only a moment to kneel at Kylo’s side and he smells so good and that calculating look is back, but only briefly.

“Alright, try to concentrate, you’re on suppressants?”

Kylo nods and reaches out, blindly grasping at the alpha, so close and hot. He’s never felt anything like this pull, this need.

“Been on them for a while?”

Kylo nods and tries to find the edges of the fabric. He wants skin.

“Years?”

Kylo nods.

The pilot hesitates, “First heat?”

Kylo flinches at the word heat. He is supposed to be strong, free of impurities, of weakness. He is supposed to be an alpha. He nods anyway. It must be…

“Alright, what’s your name?” the alpha asks, examining the clasps of his clothing.

“Ben.” he replies, without thinking, but at the sound of his old name he startles, eyes darting around as if to make sure no one else has heard. “Ren!” he corrects.

“Ren, huh? I’m Poe.” the alpha smiles and Kylo melts. “I’m going to take care of you. Probably gonna be the best heat you’ll ever have.” There is a sour note to the end of that sentence that Kylo doesn’t quite understand.

“Don’t worry.” Poe soothes his frown, “I’m good at firsts.”


	2. In Which Things End Rather Awkwardly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HERE THERE BE SMUT!! IT'S FILTHY SO...DOn'T LOOK AT ME!

Poe is almost entirely sure this is a bad idea, but everything else he’s thought of is worse, if that’s even possible.

 

He’s seen this before. An omega suppressing their biology in order to take more dangerous jobs on planets where there’s less freedom. The Rebellion has long since done away with that sort of segregation, apparently not the First Order.

 

This omega, Ren, (or is it Ben?) must have been suppressing for years. He must not have known they would inevitably fail with time, becoming less effective until they stopped working altogether. Biology always wins. Still, if it’s been that long, this heat is going to be hell for him.

 

Not to mention this is his  _ first _ heat.

 

Poe shakes his head as the omega writhes under his lightly stroking hands.

 

He wasn’t lying when he’d said he was good with firsts. He’s led many an omega and alphas too through their first heats or ruts. It’s always a little overwhelming, but when taken slow…

 

The omega whimpers and claws at his clothes.

 

It seems like slow isn’t going to be an option here. Regardless of Ren’s explanation, surely someone will come for him eventually. Plus, Poe needs to figure out how to escape.

 

It’s not that this isn’t an opportunity, it’s just that it won’t go anywhere, not with the omega like this. It would be hard enough to turn his back and let the omega suffer, he’s just not sure he could be that cruel, but what’s he going to do waltz out of the interrogation cell without any plan or weapons? And the omega isn’t going to be any help until his heat subsides.

 

With any luck he’ll be able to gain some information from the dazed omega. If not, at least he’ll have a hostage.

 

It is also, admittedly, very hard to concentrate so near such a beautiful omega and strong too, he must be if he’s a knight.

 

Maybe it’s not so much logic driving him…

 

Still, he’s made his decision, and he’s touched this omega, Ren, he can smell their scents mingling and he’s not going to be able to stop. He’s not going to stop.

 

“Alright, shh, shhhh.” Poe hushes the omega, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He examines the omega’s face as he quiets. The man is gorgeous and Poe can see why he hides. He would be an extremely desirable partner, thick wavy hair, a strong prominent nose, plush lips, (those  _ lips _ ) and a pale complexion dotted with freckles. Alphas would kill for an omega like this.

 

He may be looking forward to this a little.

 

“It’s too bad about the mask. You’re gorgeous.” Poe says, trying to ease Ren’s mind with flattery, instead he gets a startled look and he wonders if anyone has ever seen this man’s face before, how long it’s been since he’s been naked in front of someone. A swathe of pity cuts through his arousal and Poe resolves to make this the best experience this omega has ever had.

 

Poe presses a hand to both sides of Ren’s face and draws him close for a kiss, to distract him, and distract it does. Ren gives out a breathy gasp of surprise and Poe can’t help but think this must be his first kiss as well. He rubs his thumbs along rounded cheekbones and presses harder into the omega.

 

When he draws back Ren looks dazed, but not alarmed, so that’s at least progress.

 

“Did that feel good?” Poe asks, coaxing him along, into participation, appealing to his reasoning mind. It usually helps to keep the omega from getting overwhelmed.

 

“Good.” Ren whispers, gazing up at him in amazement. Poe can’t tell if he means it or is just repeating him.

 

Poe bites his lip. He wants to take this slow, for Ren’s sake, but given his reactions, if Poe waits much longer the omega will be next to comatose. He shakes his head. He’s never seen a case of postponed heat this bad before.

 

“Alright, let’s get you out of these clothes.” Poe says, resolving himself. He’ll just...improvise. The omega whines and pants at his proposal, hands shoving at the fabric of Poe’s jacket. Poe ignores him for the moment. Both the jacket and the jumpsuit are easily stripped, but Ren’s robes seem unnecessarily obtuse. It even takes him a few moments to figure out just the belt.

 

“How the hell do these…” Poe takes a breath and tries to calm himself. Not only is Ren well into his heat and it must have come on so fast because of the suppressors, but it’s accelerated everything and the scent of it is driving Poe  _ crazy _ . They’re compatible. He’s sure. It’s not just the heat. This omega smells like heaven. He  _ has _ to have him.

 

He’s losing control, he distantly notes. It’s never happened like this before. He should calm down, take a moment, but he doesn’t. Can’t.

 

Instead, he pulls the omega (Ren, Ren, Ben? Ren, he  _ must _ think of him as a person, not just an omega, he  _ must _ keep control) in for a kiss and it is not gentle, not a kiss for a beginner, it is deep and insistent and more dominating than Poe thought he would ever be.

 

“Your clothes.” Poe demands panting into Ren’s mouth watching those wide-eyes flare with pleasure, “Take them off.”

 

Kylo slowly responds, but he does obey. Something darker, deeper in Poe thinks he must be good at obeying. Kylo slips expertly out of his clothes and Poe watches, hungry, trying to push down his arousal, trying to keep control, be gentle with this nervous little thing, so flushed, so needy.

 

Finally Poe sees clothing he understands. A light shirt with heavy sleeves, the pants, and boots. He surges forward and rips half the clasps off the undershirt.

 

Ren cries out, arches, he smells so ripe to Poe, so ready, just his for the taking and, as usual, Poe just can’t keep his mouth shut.

 

“I’ll bet you’re wet already.” He says, licking one pink nipple on the broad pale chest. The omega shudders, “Drenched.” He grins and bites down on sweet flesh. There is no distress in Ren. He’s so responsive. He’s  _ perfect _ .

 

He tugs the boots firmly off, trying to allow for some time to regain control, but the spread of Ren’s thighs as he removes the boots, those long legs on either side of him, does less for his control and more for the arousal burning through his veins.

 

He descends on the omega, just that one piece of fabric between him and that heavenly scent he’s going to rip those pants off too and give the omega what he wants, what he needs.

 

And he realizes, at Ren’s choked off gasp, that his thoughts are spilling out of his mouth, and maybe this is a more effective interrogation technique than he thought. It’s certainly making him talk.

 

“Oh, yes, that’s it.” Poe says, as he draws the pants off and sits back on his heels to admire the sight he has before him.

 

In the robes, the omega is bulky, like this he is trim at the waist and broad shouldered and so very long. His legs seem to go on forever and Poe can’t wait to feel them wrapped around his waist. Ren is splayed out, at his mercy, and Poe thrills at this thought, at the vulnerability of the omega before him in a way that he never has before.

 

“You make me want…” Poe starts to articulate, but can’t finish the thought. He doesn’t know what it is about this man.

 

Whatever it is, it seems he is not the only one to feel it.

 

“Please.” Ren moans, arching, “I burn!”

 

“I wish I could take my time with you.” Poe slides his hands over thighs, hips, whipcord, lean and strong and settles over the omega.

 

“Let me feel how much you want it.” Poe leans in to nuzzle under Ren’s chin, exposing his throat to short licks. He presses their bodies together and reaches down, skirting around the omega’s hard cock. It might feel good for a moment if he allowed Ren to come, but it won’t help. It will only prolong.

 

“Just a little at first, hmm?” Poe murmurs into Ren’s ear, reaching further, until he can feel the quiver of that slick hot entrance. Ren spreads his legs and Poe rewards him with a murmured “Good. Very good.”

 

“So slick and ready.” Poe says, again losing control of his mouth. Poe watches Ren’s face turned wide-eyed to the ceiling. He looks like he is seeing the sun for the first time and his mouth opens in a soundless gape as Poe slowly pushes one finger inside the omega and he’s so tight, so hot, that Poe grits his teeth in anticipation.

 

“You’ve never even done this to yourself, I’ll bet.” Poe says into Ren’s ear, “Never used your own fingers on yourself, never found that soft place inside you. By the Force, I can’t imagine. You’re so beautiful.” Poe takes a deep breath at Ren’s pulse point to steady himself and pushes another finger inside.

 

The omega tenses, toes curling for a moment, eyes clenched and mouth loose and open. It looks like pure pleasure.

 

“Can’t imagine what you’ll look like when I finally slide inside.” Poe rambles on, “Look so good like this already, opened up on my fingers, taking them so well.”

 

Poe watches him for long moments. It’s stunning. Mesmerizing. To watch the omega rock his hips onto Poe’s fingers, his own hands clenching and unclenching against the polished floors. He is quiet so far, more physical than vocal, Poe thinks.

 

Poe watches Ren’s tight hole eagerly take another finger. His body is desperately priming him for a mating. Poe probably would not have needed to prep the man at all, but he can’t imagine simply rolling and omega over and mounting them. Not on a first heat.

 

He licks at the sweat from the omega’s neck and waits.

 

Ren pants loudly, there is a slight vocalization with each breath, and when the ends of the breaths turn into whimpers Poe knows he must give the omega what he needs. What they both need.

 

“Roll over. You’re going to like this.” Poe says as he slides his fingers out. He gives a cursory wipe of his hands on some discarded piece of Ren’s clothing. Ren is not making any moves. He seems nearly incoherent, gasping and flushed.

 

Poe frowns. This heat seems too intense. Perhaps he should...but there are no alternatives. If the man had hidden his status for so long and so rigorously that it came to this, surely there were reasons to keep it secret. There will be no help for him out there and in here all Poe knows is that this omega needs to be mated.

 

He gently pushes at Ren’s hip and shoulder, nudging, and the man quickly grasps the idea. More physical than vocal, Poe thinks again, as the omega rolls over on his robes, elbows and knees, looking uncomfortable, uncertain, but desperate.

 

Poe has never liked nervousness in his partners before. He likes it now, though he can’t say why and somehow, the realization unnerves him, so against the relentless push of his own pleasure, he soothes both hands along the omega’s sides.

 

“Don’t worry.” He kisses the man’s spine, and Ren’s back relaxes, chest lowering, ass rising to kiss Poe’s still-clad hips. “Good.” Poe praises him again.

 

It is an incredible shame that this man has gone to waste here, in the First Order. If he is as strong as Poe assumes, given his status as a knight, he could have flourished in the Rebellion, without having to forsake his own biology.

 

The moment of reverie is brief, the urge to mate, the omega dripping with need and slick in front of him, it’s too much now.

 

Poe unzips his jumpsuit only as far as he needs to, pulling the sleeves of it off at the same time he discards his jacket. He has been trying not to think about his own pleasure, but now that the evidence is before his eyes, his own cock, hard and dripping in answer to the siren call of an omega in heat.

 

“Ren.” Poe says, as he moves up behind the man, adjusting for height, slicking the head of his cock against the omega’s dripping ass. “Ren.”

 

“Please. I’m being torn apart.” Comes the broken voice, muffled, buried in the man’s forearms.

 

He could never have ignored that plea.

 

Poe pushes in, slowly, and Ren’s body gives to him beautifully. Ren curls inwards, tense with pleasure, just for the first slide and then he melts as Poe seats his cock all the way and curls over the omega’s back.

 

“Good. So good.” Poe murmurs against the hot skin, but Ren’s satisfaction does not last long. Poe can see it in the tightening of his muscles, slowly winding up again, and the way his fingers and hands draw back across the floor.

 

Poe waits another beat, just to see what the omega will do, even though he knows he is prolonging the man’s suffering. He doesn’t like these new instincts he has around this strange omega who make him feel...who makes him feel  _ so much _ .

 

Ren tilts his hips back first, an offering, rather than trying to thrust himself back, which is a demand. Interesting.

 

Poe trembles with effort as he slowly eases his way in and out, gentle, slow, just as a first heat should be, but it’s so hard to think and the omega tastes so  _ sweet _ . Poe’s hips stutter into a faster rhythm without conscious thought, but he can’t stop himself.

 

“So tight, so good.” Poe pants into Ren’s back.

 

Ren is quickly coming to the end of his endurance, weakening with each thrust. It’s the force of the long-repressed heat, Poe knows, exhausting him. He should finish this quickly, knot the poor thing, but those dark instincts pierce through his mind again. He  _ likes _ having the omega helpless, weak. He  _ wants _ to prolong this.

 

“Please. Please!” Ren gasps under him, so quiet that Poe almost does not hear him over his own panting and the sound of the slide of their flesh.

 

Poe grits his teeth and fucks into the omega harder, deeper, letting go of his control.

 

“Going to give you what you need now. You’ll love it, having a knot stuck inside you, filling you to your limits.” Poe grunts and Ren trembles under him. One hand flashes back to claw at Poe’s thigh, pulling him closer, deeper. It makes Poe grin.

 

It makes him drag his fingernails down Ren’s back, because he wants the omega to know who’s in charge and as far as he can tell Ren loves that too. Ren digs into his thigh harder, pushes back against him.

 

“Yessss.” Poe hisses gripping Ren’s hips, holding him close, pounding short hard thrusts into the man, his knot swelling fast inside, making room, making Ren  _ his _ .

 

Poe wraps himself around the omega, holding tight to his waists and biting down on the back of the man’s neck to keep himself from screaming his release. He reaches around the omega as he spills deep inside him, marking him, he bites harder into that long neck and gives the omega two strokes before the hot spurts of his release coat Poe’s hand.

 

The omega writhes through it, yelling long and hoarse, and Poe holds on harder, eyes scrunched closed, face pressed into Ren’s back, concern wafting through his consciousness as he comes out of the haze of release slowly, still high on pleasure as the omega’s ass clenches around his knot.

 

The scent of blood snaps him out of the post coital bliss immediately. His eyes pop open and he shifts, careful for the knot still connecting them.

 

The omega is still trembling, shuddering, moaning, his arms moving restlessly across his own body and that’s wrong, and the smell of blood is increasing, only Poe knows he was careful, even his bite didn’t break skin, but he cannot see from this position, tied to the omega from behind.

 

He figures it out when one of the omega’s arms wraps around Ren’s waist and claws into his own flesh, carving bloody scores across his side.

 

Poe is stunned for a moment then grabs for Ren’s arms, pinning them to his sides and holds on tightly as he struggles. He realizes abruptly that Ren is not moaning, he is heaving panicked breaths, sobbing.

 

“Shit.” Poe spits, “Kriffing…” He has to exert most of his strength to keep the omega contained, and it doesn’t help that the panicking man is still clenching down hard on Poe’s knot and his hips are twitching into and away from Poe’s own.

 

“Calm down, calm, shhh.” Poe tries, because he doesn’t know what else to do. Hopefully the omega will exhaust himself soon, and thankfully, inevitably, he does. He slowly goes limp, still panting hard.

 

“Are you alright?” Poe asks, once his breathing also has slowed. He wants to kick himself. What if he had...what if he had misread the situation? What if he’s done something terrible? He is unwilling to form the whole thought. Still, he tightens the arm he has around Ren. They’ll both likely be injured if the omega tries to get free now.

 

“I am…” Ren pauses for so long that Poe would wonder if he was unconscious if the man weren’t still so tense. “calm.” he finally finishes, which is helpful, but not exactly an answer. Poe is still trying to figure out if he has or hasn’t done irreparable harm to the poor bastard when he speaks again.

 

“You may release me now.” Ren says and Poe can’t read his tone at all. It’s very disturbing, but he slowly eases his encompassing grip around the man, leaving one hand carefully on his hip.

 

“How long?” the omega’s voice is rough and tight.

 

“What?” Poe is startled by the clarity and the question. It takes him a moment to realize the man is talking about how long they’ll be tied, “Oh, uh, maybe ten minutes.”

 

The omega doesn’t respond, nor does he relax further than his exhaustion demands.

 

“So you’re…” Poe is uncomfortable with silences, he clears his throat, “Omegas aren’t allowed in the First Order?”

 

There is a huff but no reply.

 

“You didn’t know the suppressors would fail eventually?” Poe asks, trying for conversation again. He’s just...it’s not that he really wants to talk, he’s just worried. Ren seems fine now, but still…

 

“Quiet.” the omega says mildly, “I am thinking.”

 

Poe makes a face, but stays quiet for the moment. He’ll let the omega have his peace for now. Things are going to get pretty hectic soon one way or another.


	3. In Which a Plan of Sorts is Formed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this one's a bit short, but there you go. Next up, FN-2187's POV perhaps? This maaay or may not turn into OT4...I really just don't know!!! :D
> 
> Also, yeah, this is probably gonna get pretty dark at some points, I'll revisit the tags again, but uh, yeah, just be prepared. Things are gonna get worse before they get better. :P

He has all of seven seconds before the alpha’s discipline snaps and he asks another question. Kylo simply refuses to answer, doesn’t even hear the answer.

 

He is thinking, or trying to. Thoughts come and go so fast, flooding through his mind, dripping through his hands faster than he can hold on to them.

 

One thing is certain. He will not survive in the First Order like this. This weakness, it will be fatal here. He does not know what Master Snoke will do, if the suppressors will no longer work, but that is not the most immediate problem. He has other enemies, closer ones.

 

Hux. Kylo frowns as he thinks of their exchange in the hallway just before he came here. The subtle flaring of Hux’s nostrils, the way he leaned in so slightly that Kylo had dismissed it. He will know right away. He may already know.

 

This thought spurs him to clarity. Clarity spurs him to action.

 

“We have to leave.” he says out loud. It sounds hollow, pathetic. He doesn’t hear his own voice unfiltered often. Things sound different through the mask, important. He hates feeling insignificant.

 

“We?” The alpha asks.

 

Kylo does not respond. He is avoiding thinking about the alpha. He is avoiding thinking about what they’ve just done, about what they’re still doing (what is happening to his body is nothing. his body is nothing. he can force it down. he doesn’t have to feel it. he doesn’t have to feel anything.) about pleasure so fiercely searing that he had needed to temper the feeling with pain in a desperate attempt to hold on to his sanity. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to hold on so strongly after all.

 

His mind turns to escape.

 

The stormtroopers are all betas, chosen that way. The officers are a mix. He can walk the halls without trouble as long as he encounters no officers of high rank and as long as he goes quickly. The stormtroopers will not dare question him, but they might report him. As long as news does not reach Hux until they’re gone, the only one of equal authority...If Hux finds out, well, even Kylo cannot fight his way through all the battalions on this ship.

 

He must be swift.

 

They can take his ship, at least for the first jump, but it will be easy for the First Order to track. They would do well to go to a busy world, get lost in the crowd and switch ships to something a little less ostentatious.

  
It isn’t much of a plan, more like an outline, but everything can be bluffed until then.

 

There are things he needs to collect from his room first, however, and he cannot bring the alpha. That would be a little too suspicious for even stormtroopers not to report. He doesn’t think he will have enough time to come back for him either. He needs someone to escort the alpha to the ship.

 

FN-2187 he thinks. The stormtrooper from the village. He had felt the fear in him at the village, but he had also felt the light, the urge to do good.

 

And after...he doesn’t know. He can’t go to the Resistance. He certainly can’t stay in the Empire. He needs to disappear. He’s an  _ omega _ now. There is nowhere safe for him. He’ll need to find some other way to suppress his urges. If this is what it’s like every time--Kylo shudders and the hand around his waist strokes his hip to comfort him. It only makes Kylo tense.

 

It is frustrating that this pilot, this resistance fighter has probably saved his life. That he has, at the very least, saved him from devastating humiliation and likely the much less tender mercies of General Hux. Kylo’s throat tightens at the thought.

 

He should probably kill this man, this alpha who has seen his face (and more. so much more), but...he may be useful in the escape. When they split up it may confuse any pursuit. And then perhaps Kylo can make his way directly back to Master Snoke. Surely his Master will have a solution. Surely his Master had known the suppressors couldn’t last...Kylo bites his lip, but if he had known that why would he not have warned Kylo?

 

Perhaps this is a test.

 

Ren shakes his head. It doesn’t matter. He needs to survive first.

 

“I will send someone for you. Stormtrooper FN-2187. He will escort you to my ship. There are things I need to retrieve before we go. Prep the ship while I am busy.”

 

“What?” the alpha practically squeaks.

 

“I have graciously decided not to kill you. Do as I say and you may survive this entirely.” Kylo explains, trying to sound sure of himself and commanding, although it’s difficult with the...in this...situation.

 

“Yeah I just…” the man is saying, “Huh, I just didn’t think escaping would be this easy.”

 

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy.” Kylo replies, reconsidering his decision. “Are you…” Kylo shifts his hips slightly, but the alpha’s hand pulls him back quickly. Kylo has to press hard on one of the scratches he’d left earlier not to panic and do something that would benefit neither of them.

 

“Just wait.” the alpha says, “I’m sorry this was how your first heat went. I’m sure this is...pretty upsetting, but just be a little patient, everything’s gonna be ok.”

 

Kylo considers this statement for a moment and then reaches a conclusion that should have been obvious from the moment he first stepped into the room.

 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

The alpha shrugs still cordial, amiable even, and it occurs to Kylo that perhaps he shouldn't bait the man given the position he still finds himself in (his cock is still knotted in your ass, a very lewd voice in the back of his mind prods him. denying it is weakness. you are weak. weak. weak), “Alright, maybe I don’t know things are gonna be ok. I do know that if you try to move now you’re ass is a going to be a lot less ok.” There’s a pause, like he’s trying to decide whether to test boundaries or not, “My dick probably won’t thank you much either.”

 

Kylo recognizes the humor. It...reminds him of someone, but he can’t think who. He doesn’t laugh, although he recognizes it as funny. He feels disconnected from his own thoughts, from his own emotions.

 

He reaches for that inner wellspring of rage, but there is only a residual emotion, like a banked fire with still-hot coals. He breathes out, shaky. He will need his anger before this is over, but he’s suddenly exhausted.

 

“ _ Tell me _ when.” Kylo says, shivering.

 

“Here.” the alpha says, shifting behind him and Kylo tenses, nearly twitching at their closeness. He doesn’t understand the response until the thick fabric of his own robes settle warm and comforting over his naked body.

  
He hadn’t even realized he was cold.


	4. In Which FN-2187 is constantly sure he is about to die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, next chapterrrr! So, I want to tentatively say I dooon't think this is going to go in the direction of OT4 as a pairing (a fouring?). All the characters will be involved though. So yeah, IF that does change I'll definitely be sure to tag for it :D
> 
> Hope you all enjoy Finn's introduction. I gave his narrative a bit of a different tone than the others, so I hope you all like that as well! :D This was a fun chapter! hee hee!!! Also! If anyone knows like...more star wars-y terms that I can be using (like what are ship doors called??? Not blast doors, cause that's something specific? anyway) yeah, just let me know :P <3 <3
> 
> And never fear, we'll be back to Kylo and Poe soon :D

When FN-2187 is called to some non-specific conference room by  _ Kylo Ren _ he is absolutely sure he’s going to be court martialed and executed for disregarding orders on Jakku.

 

He does consider himself a generally positive thinking person. So maybe he’s not the only Stormtrooper being called, maybe it’s just some sort of briefing that they’re all going to. It’s not as though Kylo Ren is in charge of disciplining Stormtroopers, so there’s no reason for him to be involved on account of FN-2187’s indiscretions. If he were going to be punished he would be answering to Captain Phasma.

 

And honestly, the more he thinks about it the less scary it seems and the more strange.

 

When he enters the room it only gets weirder.

 

At first he thinks it must be a mistake. The man, although he is wearing the robes and surcoat of the Knights of Ren, is not wearing a helmet and he’s...pretty, FN-2187 thinks, wrinkling his nose under the mask. There’s a sweet smell in the air. Really sweet, like the one time their instructor snuck hard candies into their class in childhood training.

 

When the man looks at him and straightens however, there is something about his posture or maybe just some sort of aura that snaps in place the sense that this man is dangerous, something primal and strong and he realizes this  _ is _ the face of Kylo Ren.

 

So now he’s  _ sure  _ he’s going to die.

 

“FN-2187.” Kylo Ren says and it’s really weird to hear him without the voice modulator. His voice is...round, is how FN-2187 would describe it, and it sounds hoarse too.

 

It takes him a moment but he snaps to attention, “Yes, sir.” he manages, hoping he was quick enough to avoid punishment for insubordination. Not that it’ll matter, since he’s going to die right now. I mean, he’s seen  _ Kylo Ren’s face _ , for kriff’s sake!

 

“You intend to defect.” Kylo Ren says, and he doesn’t sound angry, which is unusual.

 

“No, sir!” He denies it, of course, because he’s not an idiot, and really he was only thinking about it, because he can’t just leave anyway. They’re in space, after all, although he had heard there was that pilot they’d captured, but it’s just a silly daydream nothing serious.

 

“It wasn’t a question.” Kylo Ren continues. And that’s it. He’s dead. At least getting sliced in half by a lightsaber is probably a quick way to go. FN-2187 says nothing, just cringes waiting to be grabbed by the invisible power of the force or for the deep crackling rumble of Ren’s lightsaber.

 

“You will go to prison block B, sector 45, cell 3214 and find the Resistance Pilot Poe Dameron.” Kylo Ren begins and FN-2187 is memorizing it before he realizes that he might not even be killed, because that’s what he’s been trained to do. There is a pause as Kylo Ren determines that he’s listening and keeping up.

 

“From there you will escort him to my personal shuttle. He knows what to do. If anyone should try to stop you, tell them it’s on my authority. If they insist and are of rank, give them the following code CGB44-ZEDA. Do you understand?”

 

Kylo Ren sounds tired. Maybe he always sounds this way without the voice modulator. Who would know? Maybe he sounds tired because he seems to be staging the escape of a high value prisoner and a ground trooper and sort of sounds like he might be defecting as well? This can’t be happening. That sweet smell is getting stronger, but he doesn’t see where it could be coming from.

 

“Is this...a test, sir?” FN-2187 replies. There’s just no way they’re having this conversation.

 

“I don’t give tests.” Kylo Ren says jaws clenching and drawing himself up, like a bird fluffing up its feathers to appear larger, more intimidating, “You will do as I have commanded if you want to live.”

 

“Yeah,” FN-2187 says, feeling like this must be a dream, “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Kylo Ren frowns at his haphazard answer and even though he’s never seen the frown before, you could just tell behind the mask and you don’t want Kylo Ren frowning at you.

 

“I mean, yes! I’m just…” FN-2187 gestures at him, “a little surprised by all this. Um.” the knight is outright snarling at him and yeah, that’s terrifying, “If you’re going to kill me just doitquickly!” He ends up squeaking.

 

“You’re no use to me dead.” Kylo Ren says, and in another life that might have been something like a joke.

 

The knight is moving towards him and that sweet smell is crackling in the air, almost overwhelming, “We must move quickly. Do you understand what to do?” His clipped tone leaves no room for arguments, only obedience.

 

“Yes, sir.” FN-2187 says, and Kylo Ren has grabbed his arm and led him to the doorway. Kylo Ren is here without the mask, a hand on his arm, and he’s not dead. How is he not dead?

 

“Then  _ go _ .” and Kylo Ren,  _ Kylo Ren _ , shoves him out the door into the empty hallway.

 

 

 

 

The conversation is nothing less than surreal. He’s seen Kylo Ren’s face and lived to tell the tale and now somehow they’re escaping together?

 

He keeps walking towards the cell, hoping that no one will notice that he’s both elated to still be alive and terrified that he’s walking into something even worse. It  _ could  _ be a test of his loyalty, but  _ why _ ?

 

It’s too soon and he’s in front of cell 3214. He hears himself speak and there’s confidence in his voice, which is both a surprise and a sort of miracle.

 

“Ren wants the prisoner.” he says, trying to sound gruff, and is about to go on at length, but the guard, DG-4508, just nods and punches in the code for the door.

 

It’s  _ that  _ easy and for a moment he thinks dreamily, why have I never done this before?

 

The man’s locked into the interrogation chair although one set of the restraints are broken off entirely.  _ Subtle _ , FN-2187 thinks.

 

The pilot is, wow, pretty handsome, even roughed up a little by Hux’s interrogators and that sweet smell is in this room too, although a lot less. He wouldn’t have recognized it at all if it hadn’t been so strong just previously.

 

The pilot stares at him then gives him a pointed look, eyebrows waggling, so he figures the man, Poe Dameron, Ren had told him, is in on the plan and this whole thing is so weird. He just can’t imagine Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren, planning some sort of escape with this guy. Did they know each other from somewhere?

 

FN-2187 still glances, to make sure the guard isn’t looking then nods furiously for a moment, before pausing and exclaiming loudly, “Let’s go, resistance scum, time to...meet a fate worse than death!” That sounds likely, considering Kylo Ren’s involvement…

 

The guard finally disengages the locks on the chair and FN-2187 grabs the prisoner and aims his blaster at the man. It’s on stun, of course. He can’t imagine what Kylo Ren would do to him if he killed their pilot accidentally. That is, if this isn’t some sort of trap or something even weirder.

 

“Ok, this way.” and he shuffles them off down the corridors.

 

It’s clear sailing until they pass some officers and FN-2187 panics, “Just taking this resistance scum to Lord Ren, sirs, ma’am.”

 

They spare him a glance, a very dismissive one (rude), and then they pass by resuming their conversation.

 

“You need to calm down, my friend.” Poe Dameron, the pilot says out of the corner of his mouth. “Just get me to a ship and I’ll do the rest.”

 

“Yeah? We’re gonna fly out of here, just like that?” FN-2187 knows it’s crazy and what part of his day hasn’t been crazy, but he’s soaking up that confident aura like a slightly damp sponge, not a dry one, those resist the moisture at first.

 

“Yup.” the pilot says, popping the word out of his mouth, “Just like that. You’re talking to the best pilot in the resistance.” And the man gives him a dazzling grin.

 

And wow, that’s really cool. He wishes he had something cool to say about himself. Best stormtrooper in the battalion doesn’t sound nearly as cool, besides being a total fabrication. His marks have always been great, but considering his performance in the village, he’s probably lost some points for that. Worth it, though. Especially if they get out of this alive.

 

And, surprisingly, everything is going...fine. He doesn’t want to even think it, just in case he curses them, but they’ve already made it to the hangar and they’re only 40 yards away from Kylo Ren’s ship and now 30, 25, 20. They’re going to make it?

 

Sweat is beading along FN-2187’s upper lip, every nervous swipe of the tongue is saltier. They’re 10 yards aways now,  _ 10 feet _ and they’ve made it.

 

Praise whatever gods keep the stars in the sky (not that he believes in gods, the First Order doesn’t exactly encourage the occult, except for the Force, which is kind of just not talked about), but he’s gotta be grateful to someone.

 

Then he realizes the ship’s doors are not opening. He shuffles them around a little, hoping that maybe the motion sensors are just being sensitive, but, oh space, they’re going to get caught and arrested and then  _ die _ .

 

“He didn’t give you an  _ entry code _ ?” the pilot hisses in his ear.

 

“Uh.” Oh no, oh no!

 

“Typical.” Dameron says, sounding a little tense finally, “Come on, think, he didn’t tell you  _ anything _ ?”

 

“Uh, there was, let me try--” Kylo Ren had told him that one code to prove that FN-2187 was working on his orders. “CGB44-ZEDA”

 

Nothing. Not even a blip on the access panel.

 

“Pardon me, trooper.”

 

Oh kriff, oh kriffing kriff. It’s over. It’s all over. They. are. going. to. die.  _ Horribly _ .

 

He turns them and sees an astromechanic. The woman continues once she realizes FN-2187 has heard her, “Lord Ren’s ship was just undergoing some routine maintenance. Let me unlock that for you and you’ll be all set.”

 

She pushes past him and plugs in a handheld diagnostic tool into the port on the access panel. The red light flashes green, the doors slide open and FN-2187 can breathe again.

 

“Thank you.” FN-2187 says, trying to sound gruff.

 

“No problem.” the woman grins and leans in, “I’m just glad it was one of you troopers and not Lord Ren. Can you imagine? He probably would have just cut the door off!”

 

“You are  _ not _ wrong.” FN-2187 says, feeling uncharacteristically uncharitable towards the Knight of Ren for all the he’s getting FN-2187 out of the First Order.

 

“Well, good luck. Glory to the First Order!” she says cheerfully as she returns to her post without waiting for a response.

 

“Yeah.” FN-2187 says as he watches her go, then he bundles them up the gangway and onto the starship.

 

“Well, that was lucky!” Dameron says, as he touches the inside panel, sliding the doors closed again.

 

FN-2187 collapses onto on of the seats further inside in what looks like a common area (this is a  _ nice _ ship, not just mechanically, but it’s sort of comfortable). He pulls his helmet off and tries to remember how to unscrew the tightness in his chest.

 

Poe Dameron slaps a hand down on his shoulder and gives him a friendly shake. He’s grinning, “Nice job!”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” FN-2187 says, scrubbing at his face with a hand.

 

“I guess now we wait.” Dameron says, looking around, taking in the ship’s general layout, “I’m Poe Dameron.” He offers a hand with great enthusiasm. For a man who is only half way through a prison escape he seems awfully cheerful.

 

“FN-2187.” He takes the hand with equal enthusiasm. He’s glad to have made it just this far and Poe had started out strapped to an interrogation chair, so he guesses he can see why the man is so pleased.

 

“FN--what?”

 

“That’s all the name they gave me.” FN-2187 explains with a shrug. It’s something to call himself, anyway. What more identity does anyone need?

 

“FN, huh. Finn. I’m gonna call you Finn, is that alright?” Poe is smiling again, not grinning, but there’s something pure and unfiltered about the way he seems to experience emotion.

 

There is a strange answering warmth burgeoning within FN-21...no, Finn. _ Finn _ .

 

His  _ name _ is  _ Finn _ .

 

“Yeah, Yeah, I like that! Finn!” He says it. He says his name. It feels good. It feels like they’re going to make it. They’re going to get free. It feels like he’s already free! He grins.

  
“Alright!” Poe says grabbing him by the shoulders enthusiastically and pulling him up to his feet. “Let’s get this bird prepped!”


End file.
